Ashes of Life

by Erica Lucke Dean

  The low battery warning flashed up at me. Of course, I’d forgotten to charge it, again. Life goes on, right?

  Mom gave a resolute nod. “I’d like to talk to her, if only to make sure she has someplace to go.”

  “I’m sure she’d like that.” She’d like anything if it meant avoiding having to talk to me.

  “Come on, Helen. Let’s give the girl a few minutes to grieve… alone.” My father stepped forward and motioned for my mother to follow him. He always had perfect timing and seemed to know the right things to say.

  “Promise you’ll come eat something?” Mom’s mossy-green eyes pleaded with me. “You haven’t eaten since—”

  “I promise.” As if food was something I was even remotely interested in at that moment.

  My father pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear. “I’m so proud of you, Sweet Pea. Life wasn’t fair, taking him too soon. And for you to have to plan not just David’s funeral, but hers…” Dad glanced at Sarah’s casket, and I was thankful the funeral director had closed it before leaving the room.

  “Thank you, Daddy. I didn’t do anything special. It’s what David would have wanted.” My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I blinked them back before stepping out of his embrace. “Can you give me a few minutes to say goodbye?”

  “Take as much time as you need. We’ll wait for you in the fellowship hall.” My father pressed his lips to my cheek then patted my shoulder before turning to lead my mother out.

  A shaft of sunlight broke through the stained glass windows, bathing David’s casket in a kaleidoscope of colors. My fingertips ran over the warm mahogany finish as I inched my way toward the opening where he lay, motionless, as if he was simply sleeping, not—dead.

  Why, David? Why did you push so hard for me to go on that trip? I could have stayed home—should have stayed home. I had a bad feeling. If I’d only followed my instincts… listened to my gut… maybe you’d still be here.

  The control I’d fought so hard to maintain slipped, and my body shook with quiet sobs. I grabbed the hem of my sweater, twisting the cashmere between my fingers, struggling to rein in my emotions. I refused to break down here, where they, the strangers who’d never bothered to get to know me, could watch it unfold in front of them. I reached out with trembling fingers to cup David’s chilled face, stroking my thumb against the faint stubble peppering his jaw.

  “Why was she in the car with you?” My heart stuttered, threatening to break all over again. “You lied to me, David. You brought me to this godforsaken place, halfway across the country, and you left me here alone. You said we’d grow old together. How can I ever forgive you?” More tears threatened to fall, but I squeezed my eyes shut, trapping them.

  Three months. We’d been married for a moment, and he was gone.

  With one last jagged breath, I pulled myself together and brushed David’s hair to the side. They’d parted it all wrong. I straightened his silver tie, tucking the end into the V of his black suit coat. “Who dressed you?” If I hadn’t known better, I’d suspect he’d done it himself. He’d always had a knack for crooked ties and misaligned buttons. I gave his lapel one last pat then pulled my hands back to wring them together.

  “Mrs. Barrett?”

  A deep voice drifted into the quiet sanctuary, and I turned to face the source.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to pay my respects.”

  I didn’t recognize the tall, slender man in front of me with golden-brown hair and a gentle smile. “It’s okay, I was…” After a quick glance at David’s casket, I turned back to the man’s blue eyes.

  “No.” His forehead wrinkled. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m intruding on your grief.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his charcoal dress pants, shifting his gaze—and my own—to his polished black shoes.

  I took his moment of inattention to swipe at the traces of moisture beneath my eyes. “Were you and David friends?”

  “Uh, no… we only met in passing. Sarah had nice things to say about him, though. I wish I’d had a chance to know him better.”

  The mention of her name set my jaw on edge. “So you and Sarah were…?” I waited for him to fill in the blanks.

  His face flushed crimson, and he pulled a hand from his pocket to rake it through his thick hair. “We… uh… knew each other from the hospital. We went out a few times. She was a nice lady, but her heart was somewhere else. She’ll be missed.” He was obviously uncomfortable, but I had no desire to ease his discomfort.

  I struggled to come up with something appropriate to say about the woman I barely knew. “I’m sure she will be. It’s clear from today she touched many lives.”

  “They’ll both be missed. And God… Maddie.” He sank his hand deep into his pocket to jingle his change, leaving his hair in complete disarray. “I can’t imagine what she must be going through. First the divorce, now this. Poor kid. What’s going to happen to her now?”

  For what could have been the hundredth time that afternoon, I forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m sure her family will want to step up. Her grandmother and aunt are here today. She’ll be fine—in time.” I had to remind myself that he didn’t know about the other child who’d lost a father in that same tragedy. Almost no one knew.

  His head bobbed a few times, but he said nothing.

  “I should really…” I nodded toward the double doors leading to the vestibule, desperate to escape the attempts at polite conversation that made me realize I hadn’t really given one moment’s thought to my stepdaughter’s fate.

  He stepped aside. “Oh, sure. Of course. I should get going anyway. My shift starts soon, and well, again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  With one last nod, I turned to walk out of the sanctuary. I still had to find my parents and suffer through forced socializing with the Michigan natives who had been so welcoming to me during my time in their town.

  The back of my neck prickled, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the man still standing in the aisle. He flashed a warm smile, and I realized he’d never introduced himself.

  My gray pumps clacked against the tile floor as I reluctantly marched toward the fellowship hall, leaving my husband, his ex-wife, and the stranger behind.

  Clearly, the fine parishioners of Saint Michael’s had funded several additions to the old building, so there were multiple corridors I had to choose from. I followed the sound of somber voices until I reached my destination.

  “There you are!” My mother grabbed a hold of my sleeve, tugging me toward my father and a few people I recognized but couldn’t place. “I thought you’d gotten lost. Come… have something to eat.” She thrust a dried-out cucumber sandwich into my hand. “We were just chatting with Mrs. Walker.”

  I blinked a few times, compelling my brain to fire on a few more cylinders while I ran through the possibilities of who the woman was. The name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t recall the angular face made harsher by the severe bun tugging her skin taut across her sharp bones.

  Mrs. Walker extended a hand to me. “My condolences. I’m the principal at Lake View. I knew both Mr. and Mrs. Barrett. They were such loving, attentive parents. I’m confident they wanted the best for Maddie, so let me assure you, I will do everything in my power to make this transition easier for her. I hear she’s going to be staying with a friend for a few days. The school will need you to sign some papers, but we don’t need to discuss that today.”

  My attention shifted from Mrs. Walker to my parents then to Maddie standing beside the buffet table across the room. Her amber eyes locked with mine for a moment. She resembled her mother so completely I had a hard time looking at her without drowning in a sea of inadequacy, so I turned back to her principal. “Why would I need to sign papers? She has her grandmother and her aunt. Wouldn’t
one of them be better suited for this conversation?”

  “Oh.” Mrs. Walker blinked at me, and I struggled to avoid staring at her drawn-on eyebrows. “I just assumed since Mr. and Mrs. Barrett listed you as the only other contact, you would be taking care of Maddie.”

  An involuntary burst of laughter bubbled out of me. “That would be the worst possible scenario I could think of. I can’t imagine Sarah would’ve wanted me making life decisions for her daughter.” The one time I’d met her, she couldn’t keep the disdain from her expression if she’d tried, and she obviously hadn’t tried.

  “Of course. I understand. Would it be all right if I contacted you next week just to make sure all the necessary papers are signed?” She carried on as if she hadn’t heard a single word I’d just said.

  “Sure.” Turning up the corners of my lips was such a chore when all I really wanted to do was to curl into a ball and disappear. “That would be fine. But if you’ll excuse me…”

  I couldn’t get away from her fast enough, but I’d barely gone a few steps when a familiar, friendly voice stopped me in my path. “How ya holding up?”

  I twisted my head around to greet my favorite barista—and only friend—in that godforsaken town. “Natalie,” I said her name on a sigh, relieved to have at least one person in the wretched place I could actually confide in. “I’d be a hell of a lot better if I had a decent cup of coffee.”

  “Well, you won’t get one here. They didn’t exactly ask me to cater this shindig.” Natalie bumped my shoulder with hers.

  For the first time that day, a genuine smile broke through, and I let myself relax. “I’ll be sure to speak to the establishment about that the next time I hit the confessional.” As if I’d ever hit the confessional.

  “Yeah… if you ask me, He owes you one.” She drew me into a one-armed hug.

  “I’m not sure He keeps track like that, but thank you just the same.” I hugged her back before taking in her out-of-character appearance. Instead of her signature coffee house apron worn over snug jeans, a form-fitting sweater, and bright-red Converse sneakers, the bubbly blonde wore a sedate white blouse, pressed black pants, and a pair of conservative pumps. “You clean up nice.” She’d even combed and subdued her typically tousled hair into a stylish chignon. “Thank you for coming. I think you might be the only person here who isn’t looking at me like I devour small children.”

  Natalie shrugged. “Hey, what else was I going to do all day when my best customer was otherwise engaged?”

  I glanced around the room at the sour faces paying too close attention to our conversation. “Believe me, I would have rather spent the day drowning my sorrows in espresso.”

  “Well, first thing Monday morning, we’ve got a date. You, me, and the biggest damn cup of decaf I can pour.” She patted my stomach, reminding me of my self-imposed ban on caffeine for at least the next six months.

  “As soon as I drop my parents off at the airport, you’re on. I only hope I survive until then.”

  “Okay… come on.” Natalie tucked her arm around mine, tugging me toward the buffet table. “Let’s get you a cup of this crappy coffee before you chew your own arm off to escape.”

  Chapter 3

  Maddie

  Deep snow banks reflected the headlights back at us, and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as Haleigh navigated the winding road north to Drew’s house. His family owned an old Victorian just outside the city limits, far enough away from neighbors that no one would complain about a bunch of kids at a noisy party.

  I needed the noise. I hated how everyone talked about me in whispers lately. Hello, I’m here! Alex’s parents were the only ones who’d come right out and asked me where I wanted to go. Even though what I really wanted wasn’t possible, at least they’d asked. Alex, on the other hand, barely said a word to me and shot me dirty looks from across the room. She must have been adopted or something to have such nice parents. I pitied that poor baby.

  “You sure you’re up to this? We don’t have to go if you’ve changed your mind.” Haleigh bounced her leg so hard against the seat I thought she might sprain her butt cheek.

  I tilted my head in her direction then held my hands out, pretending to weigh my choices on two sides of a scale. “Let’s see… go to a party with cute boys, no adult supervision, and plenty of drinks to help little orphan Maddie forget her troubles. Or spend the night crying and wallowing in self-pity. Tough call, but I think I’ll go with boys, drinks, and no adults.”

  “I’m not going to drink.” She stared straight ahead with her hands gripping the steering wheel at ten and two.

  I rolled my eyes. “What. Ever.”

  “You can’t pass out. I’ll never be able to get you up to my room when we get home.”

  Home. I had always thought of Haleigh’s house as a second home, but as of a few days ago, I didn’t even have a first one. Sure, my mom’s house was still there, along with the Kool-Aid stain in the sofa that Mom knew about even though I’d flipped the cushion to hide it, my secret stash of Cheetos and Red Bull, and the scent that was all Mom—like dark chocolate and cut flowers—floating in the air like dust motes. But she wasn’t there. And as for my dad’s house, that hadn’t felt like home since he’d moved her in.

  “Okay. I promise I won’t pass out.” If I hadn’t been buckled into my seat, I would have crossed my fingers behind my back.

  “Good.”

  A few minutes later, we pulled up to the three-story Victorian. Haleigh parked her mom’s Impala between a black pickup and a red Mustang. We left our coats behind, and the freezing air pricked my skin as I climbed out of Haleigh’s car. Haleigh hugged close to my side until we reached the main entryway. A few kids leaned against the railing on the large front porch, as if it wasn’t the middle of January in northwest Michigan, sipping from red Solo cups and steaming up the air around them. The big front windows vibrated from the music pounding inside.

  Aside from the dark wood floors, moldings, and staircase, the inside didn’t look anything like the outside. Sleek white leather sofas faced each other on either side of a white marble fireplace, giving the room a futuristic feeling rather than matching the gingerbread house we’d stepped into.

  Two girls dance-stumbled on the matching sofas while Pitbull’s latest song played. A couple girls I recognized from school brushed past us carrying more red cups, and the craving I’d had all day reared its head. “I’m going to get a drink.” I stepped away to search for the liquor, but Haleigh grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t forget. You promised me,” she shouted over the thumping bass.

  The problem was I wanted to forget more than I wanted to honor my promise. “I know. I know. Now go find some hot guy. You know you want to.” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Maddie!”

  “Kidding. But seriously, go dance. Have fun, and I’ll catch up with you later.” I smiled as I shook her off, hoping she’d take the hint without making a scene.

  She let go of my arm, and I followed the stream headed to the back of the house like a school of salmon looking to spawn. A large dining room opened into an even larger kitchen where at least fifty people maneuvered in front of the big silver keg. I sighed, knowing it would be a long wait before I got my turn.

  “I wondered when you’d get here.” Brody pressed his warm hand into the small of my back and flashed a toothy smile. “Hey, Luke,” he shouted over the crowd. “My girl, Maddie, needs a drink.”

  His girl? Luke, another member of the swim team, filled a cup. The crowd of kids parted, obeying an unspoken rule about who got their drinks first, and Brody took the cup from Luke and gave it to me.

  As soon as the beer was in my hands, I sucked it down as if I’d just crossed the Mojave in the summertime, finishing half the cup before taking a breath. I hated the bitter taste, but it felt s
o good going down. “Thanks.”

  “No problem, but you might want to slow down there, lightweight.” He put his large hand on my waist, making me feel small in comparison.

  My cheeks flamed, and I took another sip of my drink. “Just thirsty. I’ll be good in a minute.”

  “Thirsty. Right. You want another one before we go dance?”

  I coughed a little but managed not to choke or spit all over him before swallowing. “You want to dance with me?”

  “Maddie, in that dress, every guy here wants to dance with you.” Then he pulled me a little closer, his hand still on my waist. “I’m just not going to let them.” My knees went weak, and I fumbled with the cup before he took it. “I’ll go fill this for you. Don’t go anywhere until I get back.” I nodded, and he parted the sea of people.

  “He’s using you.” I jumped at the deep voice coming from behind me.

  In a dark corner of the dining room, a boy sat with his legs propped up on a polished chrome chair and a pad of some kind in his lap, his face hidden by shadows.

  I wasn’t in the mood for any more helpful advice. Besides, I’m using him right back. “Why do you care?”

  Corner guy shrugged.

  I darted my eyes back to where Brody was filling my cup. Luke handed him something, and Brody slipped it into his pocket before topping off my beer.

  “Ten to one that’s molly, and if I were you, I wouldn’t drink anything more he gives you,” corner guy said, and I knew that voice, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t quite place it.

  “Well, you’re not me, and I’ve had a really shitty day, and I don’t need some asshole telling me what to do. I’m going to drink and smoke and fuck whoever I want, and I’m not going to let anyone, especially some creep in the corner, give me crap about it.”